


Two Points Make a Circle

by chellefic



Series: How Sam Winchester Learned Things a Brother Shouldn't Know [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-27
Updated: 2010-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-29 10:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/318953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chellefic/pseuds/chellefic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Person or persons unknown have trapped Castiel and Dean, with only one obvious way out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two Points Make a Circle

**Author's Note:**

> Thegrrrl encouraged me and patiently read multiple drafts. Thank you, Grrrl!

"Excuse me?" Dean asked, turning to watch Cas's path around the room. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

"If you think I said 'semen,' then yes, I did say what you think I said," Castiel answered, continuing to walk slowly, eyes scanning the walls. "Blood would only make the spell stronger," Cas said, squatting next to a window and running his hand over the sill. "Urine wouldn't retain the pattern."

"Which leaves semen," Dean said. "Or spit."

"We need almost 20 milliliters to draw the sigil, which is roughly five to six ejaculations." Cas looked over his shoulder at Dean, and Dean could've sworn his eyes dropped lower than they should have. "My estimate is that will take approximately one hour to produce. How long do you think it will take to spit the same volume, particularly with nothing to drink?"

"What about the whole zapping from here to there thing?"

Cas had resumed walking around the room and he stopped to examine the door hinges. "I thought it left you constipated."

"Better that than a circle jerk."

"It would be a line. You need multiple points for a circle," Cas said.

Dean considered hitting his head against the wall. On second thought, maybe if he hit Cas's head against the wall, the wall would break. "Can you zap us out of here or not?"

"Not," Cas said turning to look at him. "Whoever built this was expecting an angel."

"That's not good."

"No," Cas agreed. "Not many would have the strength for magic this powerful."

"Who would?"

"An archangel. Some of the fallen."

The fallen. Like Lucifer. "Great, just great."

"I can get us out, but I need to draw a sigil. To do that, I need a liquid. I don't see any sources of liquid in this room, do you?"

Of all the days to leave his spray paint in the car, he'd had to pick today. There was a vase with some dead flowers in it sitting on one of the windowsills. He strode across the room, snatched it off the sill, pulled the flowers free and looked into an empty vase. "No," he said, turning it upside down.

Reaching into his coat pocket, Cas pulled out a cloth, shook it to unfold it, then reached for the vase.

"Dude, you carry a handkerchief," Dean said, letting go of the vase.

Cas wiped out the inside of the vase, then held it back out to Dean. "Would you like to go first?"

There wasn't any point in putting it off. "Fine," he said, accepting the vase.

Cas looked at him.

Dean looked back.

"I believe you need to open your pants first."

"Listen, I've been jerking off for..." Dean tried to remember exactly when he'd started jerking off. "A long time. I know what I need to do with my pants."

"But you aren't doing it."

"You're looking at me. It doesn't exactly set a mood."

"I wasn't aware a mood was required."

"Well it is, so just--" Dean moved his hand in a circle.

Cas looked at him for at least 30 seconds more before turning around.

That was better. Without Cas looking at him, he could get this thing started. "Why is it that whenever you show up, I end up in a mess?" he asked, surveying the room for a comfortable place to sit.

"You were the one who suggested we check the third floor."

"Yeah, well, you didn't argue with me." Without furniture, there weren't any comfortable places to sit.

"Should I have? It seemed like a reasonable course of action."

"Hah, see," Dean said, pointing at Cas's back. "You admit it was reasonable."

"I never said it was unreasonable."

Walking to the closest wall, Dean sat and leaned back against it. "Can you stop talking now?"

"Certainly."

Resting his head against the wall, Dean closed his eyes and searched his brain for some sexy thoughts. There was always Rhonda Hurley. She and her panties were pretty reliable fantasy material. Though that might be a little too kinky with Cas in the room.

There was the porn he'd watched on the motel television a couple of nights ago. Pretty blonde, even prettier brunette, that had definitely been hot, especially when the blonde--

"Dean."

"What?"

"Why can't I talk?"

"Because I need to think. Which is difficult to do with you jabbering away."

"Very well."

The brunette had had nice breasts, especially when the blonde had cupped one in each hand, bent her head and--

"I wasn't aware masturbation required thought."

"Well it does."

"Why?"

"To get the juices flowing, why do you think?"

"Juices?" Cas paused for half a breath, then answered his own question. "You mean blood. You think arousing thoughts so blood will flow to your penis giving you an erection."

"Good deduction, Sherlock," Dean said. "Now, do you mind?"

"Of course not. You may resume your arousing thoughts."

"Thanks," Dean said, putting every ounce of sarcasm he possessed into it. Closing his eyes, he tried to conjure up the image of the brunette's breasts, the blonde's hands...

"I aplogize for interrupting, but what does one think about in order to become aroused?"

"You've never jerked off, have you?"

"No,"

Dean studied Castiel's back. From the set of his shoulders he looked as uncomfortable as he had the night he'd admitted to never having had "occasion." "Have you ever been aroused?"

"No."

"Okay," Dean said. He was stuck in a room with a completely inexperienced angel and a need for semen. Why was it that his life was always managing to find new and creative ways to suck?

Maybe if he got Cas off, Cas would stop asking questions. Then Dean could do his bit. And then they could both do their bits, again. "Come here," Dean said.

Cas turned around. "I don't see--"

Cutting him off, Dean said, "Just come here. And lose the coat. And the suit jacket."

Instead of walking over, Cas stood completely still, studying Dean for a long moment before crossing the room. Dean had kinda gotten used to the staring, but the stillness was still freaky.

"I don't see the point of removing my coat and jacket."

"Am I the expert on jerking off or are you?"

"You are," Cas said, with an archness in his voice that made Dean frown.

"Exactly. Now, coat."

Removing his coat, Cas let it fall to the floor in a pile next to the wall. His jacket followed.

"Good." Dean parted his legs and patted the floor in front of him. "Now sit."

Cas stepped over one of Dean's legs and started to lower himself to the ground.

"Other way," Dean said and Cas turned so his back was to Dean and sat cross-legged between Dean's legs. Sitting up, Dean put his arms around Cas. "Touch is also a turn-on. So I'm going to touch you. You'll get hard, and then you can do what you need to do."

"Ah, foreplay."

Foreplay. No. No way was he about to engage in foreplay with Castiel. "It's not foreplay. It'd be foreplay if we were going to have sex, which we are not going to do. This is pre-play. The playing that comes before the other playing."

"Pre-play."

"Yes, pre-play. Now lean back," Dean said, leaning back against the wall, bringing Cas with him. Now all he had to do was turn Cas on. With an arm around Cas's waist, he slid the other up Cas's chest. Cas was thinner than he looked with all those layers of clothes.

"Shouldn't you be touching my penis?"

"Ever hear the expression getting there is half the fun?"

"Isn't the point of going somewhere to get there?"

"Human beings like being touched, all right," Dean snapped. "It feels good. Now will you shut up and let me touch you?"

"Very well."

Dean resumed moving his hand over Cas's chest; his fingers brushed Cas's side and Cas jerked away.

Dean stopped. "Something wrong?" At this point Dean was pretty sure a nun would be easier to arouse. An eighty-year-old totally asexual nun.

"I believe I'm ticklish."

Dean's annoyance disappeared, because a ticklish Cas, that would be --

Cas grabbed his hand. "I'm absolutely certain I would not find being tickled arousing."

"You never know until you try," Dean said, wiggling his fingers where Cas's hand was curled around them. Cas tightened his grip. "All right. We should get rid of the tie and open your shirt anyway."

"No tickling."

"No tickling. I promise," Dean said. Cas turned to face him. Those blue eyes could be downright steely sometimes, but it wasn't enough to drive away the image of Cas laughing and squirming under Dean's fingers. "At least not today."

With a nod, Cas released Dean's hand and removed his tie. Then he began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Let me do that," Dean said. Lowering his hands, Cas watched as Dean reached for the next button on his shirt. It felt weirdly intimate to have Cas watching while Dean moved from one button to the next. He was about halfway down when the twisted position Cas was in stopped him from getting to the next button. Placing his hands on Cas's shoulders Dean guided him down so he was once again resting against Dean.

Tugging Cas's shirt free of his pants, Dean finished undoing the buttons. Spreading the sides of Cas's shirt, he placed a hand on Cas's stomach and slowly moved it upward. Cas's skin was smooth, but not soft. He wasn't as broad as Dean, but there was no denying the strength he could feel in Cas's body.

No denying that it wasn't human.

He was trapped in a dingy room with an angel of the lord half-undressed in his arms.

Tracing the edge of a pectoral muscle with his fingers, Dean stroked the thumb of his other hand over Cas's navel.

"This feels nice," Cas said.

"It's supposed to."

Dean slid his fingers over a nipple and Cas made a small humming sound. He traced the edge of it, then moved a single finger back and forth over the tip. "Good?"

"Yes," Cas said and Dean switched to the other side. Cas's nipple tightened as soon as he touched it. Okay, so arousing an angel was kind of fun.

Cas stretched, lifting his chest toward Dean's touch. Dean moved the hand on Cas's abdomen upward, keeping his entire hand flat against Cas's skin. Tilting his head forward, he looked down the length of Cas's body. There was definitely a bulge between his legs and Dean's hands on Cas's pale, perfect skin were kind of hot looking.

His lips were practically on the side of Cas's neck and there wouldn't be anything wrong with moving them closer, maybe tasting Cas's skin. It would probably make the bulge in Cas's pants bigger, which was the goal here.

He kissed the side of Cas's neck lightly, pressing more firmly when Cas tilted his head to the side. Cas's skin tasted good and Dean couldn't be blamed for wanting to taste more, especially since Cas seemed to like it and getting Cas hard was the whole point. He slid his lips a little further down, sucked a little harder.

Cas tilted his head a little more.

Dean decided to see if the spot beneath Cas's ear was sensitive. It was on him.

A light scrape of teeth, a hint of suction--

"Dean."

"Mmmm?"

"I believe my juices are flowing."

Opening his eyes, Dean looked down the length of Cas's body. The bulge in his pants now looked like it was trying to escape. Clearly, Cas liked that spot as much as Dean did.

Though it wouldn't hurt to check, just to make sure. He moved a hand down, covered the bulge. Cas was hard. Cas was definitely hard. Hard and gripping both of Dean's biceps like he was going to use them to propel himself back into heaven.

Which maybe he was.

"Relax," Dean said softly, rubbing Cas's cock, learning the shape of it through Cas's pants. He'd done that to Cas. Turned him on. Aroused him for the very first time. He pressed firmly, enjoying the feel of Cas's hardness against his palm.

"The sensations are stronger than expected."

"Yeah, I remember." He definitely remembered the first time someone else had touched his cock. "But it'll be good, I promise."

"I trust you."

Dean really wished Cas wouldn't say stuff like that, even though it made him want to puff his chest out. "We need to open your pants, remember?"

Cas released Dean's arms and Dean wondered if he'd have prints on his arms to match the one on his shoulder.

Cas was wearing striped boxers and Dean found himself inhaling sharply as Cas reached into them and extracted his cock. It was hard, flushed red with arousal. "Now, I--"

"Stroke," Dean said, curling his hand around Cas's. "Like this." He guided Cas's hand along the full length of his shaft.

"Oh," Cas said, head tilted forward, so he could watch.

Dean didn't blame him. Their hands and Cas's dick made a pretty hot combination. "You'll have to practice, figure out what you like best." Not that Dean was trying to encourage Cas to jerk-off. Except that jerking off was one of the best parts of being a guy and Cas deserved to experience all the best parts of being human.

"Practice?" Cas asked, his voice sounding more choked than Dean had ever heard it.

Smiling, Dean used his free hand to rub the head with the pads of his fingers and Cas pulled in a breath. "See, there are all kinds of sensitive places."

"Show me what you like," Cas said, voice low and edged.

A spike of lust went straight to Dean's dick. "Sure," Dean said. It was possible his voice was even more choked than Cas's had been. "I usually start like this." He continued with the long, slow strokes. "Sometimes I play with my balls."

"I hadn't thought of that," Cas said. He was sounding less like himself with each sentence. Maybe each word. It was kind of hot, hearing Cas lose it.

Cas's pants were in the way, and Dean didn't really want to stop to remove them. "It'll give you something to try next time."

"Right."

"When I start getting more revved up, I focus on the head a little more," Dean said, guiding Cas's hand in shorter strokes up past the head then back down his shaft about mid-way.

After a few strokes, Cas started shifting his hips. Dean doubted he even knew he was doing it, not with the way his head was tilted back and his body was straining.

Suddenly, Cas moved both their hands away. "Vase," Cas said before Dean could ask.

Dean fumbled for the vase, while Cas shifted onto his knees, half-facing Dean. He held the vase in front of Cas's cock, watching as Cas stroked himself with short, fast movements.

Cas came without a sound, head thrown back, eyes closed, shirt tails moving as his entire body jerked with the strength of his orgasm. Rising onto his knees, Dean slipped his free arm around Cas's waist, encouraging Cas to lean into him as his body shuddered and his cock pulsed.

"That was pleasurable," Cas said to Dean's shoulder.

"Told you you'd like it," Dean said, patting Cas's back. Okay, so it may have been more of a slow, gentle stroke. Whatever.

Straightening, Cas smiled up at Dean. He looked more relaxed than Dean could ever remember seeing him, and Dean was the one who'd made him look like that. "You were right," Cas said.

Cas's lips curled in a really attractive way when he smiled. And they were very pink. And soft-looking.

"Your turn," Cas said.

"Right," Dean said, shifting his gaze from Cas's mouth to his own crotch. Thinking sexy thoughts wasn't going to be a problem, not after giving an angel his first orgasm. He undid the snap on his jeans, opened his zipper and his cock practically sprang out of his briefs. Definitely not a problem.

Pushing jeans and briefs down to his thighs, he wrapped his hand around his cock, breath hissing at the contact.

Cas didn't offer to turn around and Dean didn't ask him to, even though Cas was watching every move he made.

He gave himself a long, slow stroke. He was damned hard, harder than he'd gotten watching the blonde and the brunette.

"May I help?" Cas asked, lifting his gaze from Dean's cock to his face. "You helped me."

Letting go of his dick, Dean gripped Cas's shoulder, and Cas reached out, wrapped a hand around his cock.

He could feel the strength in Cas's hand, inhuman power contained in human skin. Groaning, he rested his forehead against Cas's and watched that hand move over him with long, thorough strokes.

It was too much and nowhere near enough. "Cas."

Cas tightened his grip, began moving his hand back and forth over the head with a steady motion that invited Dean to rock his hips.

There was a scraping sound somewhere outside the circle of him and Cas.

A heartbeat later Castiel was standing between Dean and the door, fully clothed, and Dean's jeans were pulled up and way too tight.

The door opened and Sam stepped into the room. "There you guys are. We should get out of here. You wouldn't believe the magic--" He frowned. "You okay, Dean?"

"Fine," Dean grated, wondering if lousy timing were a smitable offense. He pushed himself to his feet.

"What's the vase for?"

Dean looked down at the vase in front of him. The one with sperm from an angel's vessel, which they probably shouldn't leave lying around for whoever was powerful enough to trap an angel.

"Nothing," Cas said, picking up the vase. "Just an empty vase."

Dean looked again. It was empty. At least he wasn't going to have to drink Cas's come from a vase. Not that he'd be willing to do that. Unless he had to.

He really needed to get out of here. "Come on. Let's go." Striding across the door, he brushed past Sammy and out the door.

He could feel Sam's curious gaze on his back. Ignoring it, he headed for the stairs. He needed to get out of here before his life could find another way to suck.


End file.
